Hashtag Holidate

by Lucy Lennox

The contrast between his realness and my curated content hit me like a slap. But it also sparked an idea.

I needed Maddox Sullivan behind my camera. And maybe, if I was lucky, I could get him in front of it, too.

The truth was, he had one adorably crooked canine that made him look impossibly more attractive because it lent a little realness to his otherwise perfect look.

“Stand down, Evelyn. I will not be making babies with that city boy. This is not Hallmark, and he isn’t returning to his hometown looking for love. This is real life, and he’s as deep as a sheet of sandpaper, even if he’s a thousand times smoother.” “Mmf. We’ll see.”

“New friend?” he asked, mixing something that smelled of citrus and lime. “New client,” I corrected. “Short-term project.” Alex raised an eyebrow. “The guy’s practically glowing. You sure that’s all it is?”

It wasn’t just cold here; it was cold as fuck.

Feeeeeeels lmao

It was annoying as fuck that I’d taken twenty minutes getting camera-ready, and he’d managed to roll out of bed looking like a lumberjack thirst trap.

“I know where we can find a stand-in. He’s grumpy as hell, but he’ll look good in front of the camera despite the scowl.”

“Should we, ah, do something about what you’re wearing?” “Yes,” he said, stopping his adjustments and locking eyes with me. “We should be grateful for it, in the way of beggars not being choosers.”

Maddox’s eyes widened, and his cheeks turned pink faster than a sunset timelapse. “Even a broken clock is right twice a day,” he murmured. “And even a grumpy photographer can be eloquent once per lunar cycle,” I countered with a wink.

“Just friends. He’s definitely talented right?” he’d written with a winky emoji, followed by a fire emoji. The fire emoji made my face heat, and I forced myself not to think about what it implied.

“He gets to be the pretty one, and I’m the grumpy one? Says who? I’m not fucking grumpy.” “Are, too,” the two of them said at the same time before breaking into laughter.

I was tired. Tired from working, tired from trying so hard to keep all the balls in the air. Tired of being the grumpy one. Tired of being alone.

He’d seduce Adrian in a hot minute, and Adrian would probably thank him for the opportunity. Fuck. Fucking fuck.

I picked up my phone again and banged out a text. I’ll do it. But this is the last time. His response was immediate. Adrian Methinks we don’t like the ski instructor.

I rolled my eyes, hoping the cold air explained the heat rising in my cheeks. “Your flattery needs work, Hayes.” He shot me a teasing look. “I don’t know, your blushing says otherwise.”

The moment my chest pressed against Adrian’s back, I realized my mistake. The faint scent of that cologne I’d caught a few days ago—something expensive and subtle—filled my senses. I was suddenly acutely aware of how perfectly my height matched his, how easily my arms fit around him.

“Because I just realized I have no way to set this up in my cabin, and I… kind of really want to. Will you help me?”

The smile that broke across his face was like sunrise after a long night—warm, bright, and devastatingly beautiful.

I’d nearly kissed Adrian Hayes. And worse, I’d wanted to. Badly.

There was an awkward moment as he stepped past me into the cabin, his body angling carefully to avoid any accidental contact, like I might burn him if we touched. The air between us felt charged, like the static before lightning strikes.

Being snowed in with Maddox Sullivan hadn’t been on my Christmas list, but I couldn’t pretend I was disappointed.

When I returned to the living room, Maddox glared at me. “I said no.” “I heard you. Make yourself comfortable, but stay out of my fucking frame.”

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can’t I keep my mouth off his?

The wind and snow battering the windows felt like a soundtrack to the loss of control I felt the more I touched and tasted this man. Each gust that rattled the glass felt like it was rattling my resolve to keep him at arm’s length. The storm outside I could handle. But this one, the one in which I wanted to spend hours, days, years giving this man pleasure, terrified me.

Maddox Sullivan was the king of acting like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t had his mouth on mine, his hands in my hair, my cock in his mouth.

The raw honesty in his words doused my anger like cold water. He wasn’t being cruel. He was afraid.

Imperfect, unfairly gorgeous, maddeningly frustrating, genuinely good Maddox Sullivan was the only man I wanted.

His gaze moved past me to Nate, and something flashed in his eyes before his professional smile clicked into place.

Adrian Hayes was a threat to my equilibrium, my reputation… my fucking heart.

“I saw the way you look at him through the lens. Stop fighting what’s obvious to everyone but you, Sullivan. Life’s too short.”

“You want me inside you, Adrian?”

“You going to be my pretty boy?” he whispered. “Let me take off all those fancy clothes and lay you out just for me to see?”

“Not yet,” he warned. “Not—? Are you fucking… what? What? Let me come. I need to come. I was almost fucking—oh fucking fuck!”

All I could think, with my single remaining functioning brain cell, was that this was too good for me to ever give up. Maddox had said he wouldn’t leave… but how the hell was I supposed to walk away when my time in Legacy was through?

Why did it feel so good? Why was this guy, of all the people I’d hooked up with over the years, the one who made me lose control?

Raw possession. This man is mine. The pull of my impending orgasm. It feels so fucking good. And the deceptive temptation to imagine these feelings could last. It’s just sex, Sullivan. Stop imagining more.

“It’s okay, you know,” he said softly. “I won’t hold you to your promise. You can go.”

“You hardly got any shots of his face, Maddie.” My jaw clenched, but my insides melted at the soft shortening of my name. He’d done the same thing during sex, when his control had slipped.

“Something about you is different to him. You’ve got his antennae up unlike anything we’ve seen in years. Half of Legacy thinks you’re the best thing that’s happened to Maddox since… well, since before his parents died. And you make him different, too. Lighter. Like he remembers how to laugh.”

“It was Maddox,” Maya said bluntly. “Being an emotionally inaccessible disaster as usual.” “Typical.” Sadie shook her head. “I swear, sometimes I want to shake him. Here he’s got this gorgeous, successful man who’s clearly crazy about him, and he’s probably sabotaging it because he’s scared.” I felt heat rise in my cheeks. “Who said I was crazy about him?” All three women turned to stare at me with varying degrees of disbelief.

But was he truly lonely? Did he crave connection and companionship? He’d begged me to stay. And I’d still fucking left.

The chief’s eyes snapped to Alex’s and narrowed, causing a fuck-ton more sparks than my flaming marshmallow ever had.

“You deserved more than being the good-looking accessory in a Christmas card,” I continued. “You deserved to be loud and messy and loved anyway. You deserved someone who looked at you and thought, ‘That one’s mine.’”

This was what I’d been missing in my life. Not just the sex—though Christ, that had been incredible—but this. The quiet intimacy of shared space. The weight of another person’s arm around me, keeping me tethered to something real.

“What can I do for you, Chief Kincaid? Would you like a holiday cocktail? It’s on me. I’d love to help you celebrate the season with a sedative.” “Thanks for your kind offer, but I have to decline. I have a hot date tonight with my⁠—”

The fire chief watched him go, murmuring, “My book and a frozen pizza,” too softly for Alex to hear. After a beat, his shoulders fell, and he turned to leave.

“I like wearing your clothes.” His eyes darkened. “Yeah?” “Makes me feel like I belong to someone,” I murmured.

“Baby, we need to go. You’re elegantly hammered.”

“Nobody else gets to see you like this because right now, you’re mine. Dirty and beautiful and perfect… and all fucking mine.”